Sam and Socko's Cousin
by CraftyNotepad
Summary: Sam, well, she ... you'll see.


Disclaimer: Though it's fun to hang around the Bushwell Plaza tower and the town of Pickford, I only own one of those shows. "iCarly" or "Phil of the Future?" For legal reasons, I'm not allowed to say which one. You'll figure it out.

**Author's Note:** An iCarly reader MIGHT review a Phil of the Future story, so here's a little thanks in advance.

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Sam and Socko's Cousin

Chapter One: Boredom

by CraftyNotepad

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It was a dark and stormy night ...

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... not really. That would have been a more interesting way for this story to begin than what really happened.

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It was a typical night at the Shays', about an hour before show time. Oh, yeah, and Sam was bored. How bored, you ask? Talking to pop bottle man bored. Tired of insulting Freddie bored. Tired of ... no, Freddie's about scrapping the bottom of the Fat Cake's package for Sam Puckett. It wasn't because she hadn't tried other ways to entertain herself. Already, she had emptied the fridge, um, the freezer, and the cookie jar. Sam even polished off her secret jerky stash inside pop bottle guy, which is why she was really "talking" to him, retrieving her dried meat from her mule right from under Fredward's nose. Now, her stomach was packed and her best pal's kitchen was empty. This was so boring! What was keep Carly?

Carly had offered to have Sam join her on her last minute scavenger's hunt for props need for tonight's broadcast. Freddie wanted to go, but he had to finish debugging the new special effects software for the bit the girls had practiced. Sam could have helped Shay. She could have ... well, no, but she could have let Benson work in peace ... well, no, she couldn't. True to her nature, Puckett did as little as possible, occupying the couch when she wasn't foraging for food. Sure, it worked for her now, but just wait until her teenage metabolism cuts out. Sammy's going to bloat out like her mama. "Mama loves her Fat Cakes."

There was nothing to do around here. Might as well mess with Fredso, at least that was something. She walked up behind the seated technical producer, busy typing into his computer at the kitchen's island counter. She took a deep breath and watched his spine lock up in reflexive anticipation of some on coming pain. Not this time, not yet. Sam exhaled, blowing on his neck; Freddie, of course, figured it was the cool air he normally felt just before his body struck Sam's fist, so he continued to brace for the impact. Nothing. No, there it was again. Oh, he got it, she was playing with him. Bored. Well, two can play it that way.

"Fred."

She never called him "Fred."

"Yes, 'Samantha?"

"Watcha doin'?"

"I'm busy preparing to make you and Carly look smashing, as always. Now, give me fifteen more minutes to work in peace, willya?"

"Melanie says, 'hi.'"

"That's nice, tell her I said, 'hi' right back."

"She heard you."

"She's here?"

"Right here."

"You? Her?" Freddie jumped out of the barstool chair. "I Knew It! You all said I was crazy, but I - you're Melanie. Right?"

"Maybe. Or, maybe, I'm Melanie, and you just can't tell the difference, Fred. Don't you think it's time you stopped going by a little kid's name, Fred?"

"I, uh, uh, ...well."

"You're getting older, Handsome. 'Fred' suits you. Try it out."

"Pleased to meet you, Melanie-Sam. I'm Fred, Fred Benson."

"How's that feel, Mr. Benson?"

"Feels good. Feels -"

Sam pressed her lips against Freddie's slightly separated and totally surprised ones, forgetting all about being bored a minute ago. Sure, Freddie struggled at first, but she was used to that. Then he stopped struggling and started kissing back, which she wasn't nearly so used to. Usually, when he stopped struggling, it meant she had been squeezing too tight and had halted the precious blood flow to his brain. How she hated his nerdy brain, but this kissing thing, it was ... nice - not a word she used often. Unexpectedly for both of them, she pulled away.

"What's a matter, Mel? Sam? What did I do wrong?"

"Mmm ... nothing. Not a thing. Just came up for air, Fred."

Before he could prepare a response, she dove in again. Freddie had forgotten all about this being a game, especially from the waist down, as Sam noticed when she leaned back in to kiss him some more.

"Sorry."

"I'm not," comforted Sam with a smile, softened eyes, and then moved in for more - Freddie backed off. "What's wrong?"

"Are you really Melanie, or is you, Sam, playing mind games?"

"You really can't tell, can you? Want some help, a for sure way to tell us apart?"

"Absolutely. There is one? Of course, there is, there must be. What is it?"

"Well," Sam could hardly believe that she was taking her teasing so far. No, she wasn't.

"Well?" he prompted, impatiently.

"Not here." And with that, she captured his fingertips and led him upstairs ...


End file.
